


And now he's gone

by wepaytheprice



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: ALL THE ANGST, Angst, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt Charles Xavier, Hurt Erik Lehnsherr, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Mild Blood, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:48:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25418737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wepaytheprice/pseuds/wepaytheprice
Summary: Charles has Hanahaki, but he never gets a chance for the right words to come out
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr/Charles Xavier
Comments: 7
Kudos: 72





	And now he's gone

Charles walked arm and arm with Erik to the laboratory in the manor. For as long as he could remember, he never liked going to the doctor. However, he was very fond of Hank so it wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been. Despite this, he also didn’t like how Erik treated him at that moment. He was not a child and he did not need to be dragged to a doctor for something that couldn’t be explained. 

“Hey Professor,” Hank chirped as he cleaned off his lab equipment, “what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Charles is sick,” Erik stated as he pushed the smaller of the two forward.

“I am not sick,” he retorted, “I just have a bad cough.”

Hank smiled sweetly and gestured towards the lab table. Reluctantly, Charles took a seat and stared harmless daggers at his companion who hovered by the door. The doctor asked him to take a deep breath and the telepath could sense that there was something that wasn’t quite right. He felt the waxy sensation of gardenia petals build in his throat. 

“I’d like to take an image of your lungs if you don’t mind,” McCoy recommended.

“Why does he need an x-ray? Is he alright?” Erik began to fret and his thought’s raced in multiple directions.

“Oh he’s fine,” the doctor grabbed the leads from the table, “I just like to be thorough whenever I do a check-up.”

Suddenly a large crash enacted from upstairs and all three of them had a good feeling of what caused it.

“Erik,” Charles’ soft voice trickled out, “please check on Angel. I’m worried she’ll damage her wings.”

His friend wanted to argue, but he couldn’t find the words to say. Instead, he took out a silver dollar and tossed it to the patient and walked out. 

“What’s with the coin?” He questioned as he pealed the tabs off the adhesives.

“Oh, it sort of good luck charm. Whenever we have to split up while we’re out gathering mutants, he gives me this as an insurance policy. If I have it, I’ll be safe. But I guess that’s not the case, is it?”

Hank looked at him curiously as the telepath laid down on the observation table.

“You know, don’t you?”

There was a thick, deafening silence as both of them absorbed the information that had been passed between them. Charles doubled over as he began to cough violently and persistently. Streams of blood and stained anemone and aster flowers spilled from his lips and onto the floor. An entire fully bloomed rose landed on the floor soaked in the crimson liquid and Hank gasped in horror as the telepath curled up on the observation table.

“Charles,” the Doctor murmured as he picked up as many flowers as he could stomach, “you’re getting close to the final stage.”

“I know,” his voice gruff and tired.”

“You’re dying.”

“I know.”

“I have to tell Erik.”

“Tell Erik what?” The man in question walked into the room, his sleeves rolled up and covered in the residue from Angel’s wings. Then he noticed the blood on the floor and his companion curled up on the cold table in pain. Without another word he rushed to his side and knelt in front of his face. 

“Charles? My friend? What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Erik,” Hank tried to remain as calm as possible, but he could feel his voice tremble, “he’s not well.”

“How bad is it?”

“He’s dying.”

Everything seemed to stop at that moment. Death hung in the air like smog over a bustling city. All participants stayed very still and very quiet, the knowledge of what to do next was completely unknown. Erik and Hank agreed it was best that Charles got to a comfortable bed, and slept for a few hours. The latter refused to be aided or carried up the stairs to his room and continued to walk on his own, alone. In his seclusion, he began to wonder when his time would be up. Curled up on his soft bed, his lungs ached and burned from the stems, leaves, and flower petals that grew and crowded. When it began, he didn’t understand it. There was no reason for Erik, a man whos ideology clashed with is own daily, to make him feel that way. There was no reason for beautiful flora to push and slash their ways through this throat and mouth whenever he heard his close companion speak in his native tongue. Everything that Erik did that caused warmth to spread through his body, would later rip it to shreds. Once he learned the language of flowers, the realization that he was in love with him, and that he’d never be able to enjoy the sweetness of reciprocation. Weary and lost, Charles let his telepathic abilities wander the halls of his makeshift school. His mind hovered and circled the edges of his friend, but dared not to enter unless invited. Suddenly, he felt overwhelmed with worry, love, and camaraderie, emotions that he knew in his soul came from Erik. For a brief moment, he reveled in them, their good intentions, and all the things that were on the tip of his tongue but were swallowed by pride.

He felt the flower’s burst in his lungs at an alarming rate. Fully bloomed flowers erupted from them and forcibly pushed their way towards his mouth. Before the blossoms took hold of him, he let out a final cry, physically as well as telepathically. Everything hurt and he found himself on the ground, the air escaped him as he tried desperately to keep hold of it. Erik burst in barely a few minutes after and felt genuine horror to see Charles on the floor who held on by a thread. Blood and complete flora spluttered out of his mouth in such a grotesque manner that it made it hard to even look at him. However, Erik held him tightly, unsure, and concerned. What could he do? Just hold him till he dies? Run to get help? He didn’t know and he doubted that anything could help.

For the first time in his life, Charles didn’t have a single thought in his mind, and for the first time in Erik’s life, he went numb. The telepath went still in his arms and he let out a wretched cry. Things weren’t meant to be this way, they were supposed to be happy. They were supposed to run the school, run the movement together. Now, there was no motivation, no goal, no Charles. Erik cried for the first time in a long time as he felt petals gather in the back of his throat. 


End file.
